


Godlike

by atlanticslide



Series: A Series of Firsts [3]
Category: Hit the Floor (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:50:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlanticslide/pseuds/atlanticslide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Oscar paid $30 million for him, he helped carry this team to a championship, everyone wants a piece of him.  But all of it - the team and the money and the women (and occasional men) who throw themselves at him, it’s not </i>quite<i> real.  They want </i>Zero<i>, the superstar, the guy who’s built a whole persona around being desirable and godlike.  But he hasn’t had many people in his life who have really wanted </i>him.<i>  And for Jude, after a lifetime of trying to mold himself to be what his father might want in a son, even at the expense of himself, he can can relate.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Godlike

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately after the Season 2 finale.

The highlights on ESPN have started running in a loop, one that Jude’s watched about three full times at this point. 

Doesn’t matter, though. Jude leaves the TV on, mostly for background noise or possibly out of some sense of masochism, but he’s only vaguely paying attention. He was there for it all in person. 

He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself - probably also part of why he’s watching the same interview with Zero replay for the fourth time. Next will be an interview with Derek and a clip of him receiving the series MVP trophy that Zero had so desperately wanted, followed by talk of Oscar’s arrest. Jude should probably just go to bed, but he can’t make himself get up and head that way despite how bone-weary tired he is, and he doesn’t know whether to go out somewhere or call Lionel or call his boss back or go down to the police station to check on Oscar (he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help that tiny part of him that still longs to be Oscar’s lapdog).

So he sits and stares at the TV, takes a long sip from his beer and stretches his legs out to rest on the coffee table, tries not to think too much about the evening and about Zero and about what he may have lost in finally drawing that line in the sand.

He’d asked his mother once why she left Oscar when she did - Oscar on the cusp of wealth and power, Jude just barely six months old, herself without any job or prospects or safety net of any kind beyond her parents’ home that she moved herself and her infant son into upon leaving her husband - why not stay and try to repair the relationship, try to see it through that tough time to see if she actually could get used to the high-powered lifestyle Oscar coveted? 

She’d told him that there came a point after which it would have been too painful, too difficult to extricate herself and her son from Oscar’s orbit. As it was, it was hard and it was painful, and she’s probably only recently realized just how acute the pain is for Jude as well. But still, it was a difficulty she could manage better than if she’d stayed longer and become even more attached, more entangled in the life she didn’t want.

He gets it now. He wants Zero; he wants to be with him, wants to fuck him, wants to touch him, wants to talk and laugh with him, wants to be able to think about the future with him, and it hurts now to have walked away from him, but Jude knows with bone deep certainty that it would have been infinitely worse to continue down the path they were on only to try to break off of it later, or worse, see Zero break away from him for some newly passing fancy.

Still, it hurts _now_ , and it’s hard not to go back and second guess himself. He takes another long swig of beer - some shitty IPA that Zero likes, of course, so Jude’s found himself keeping it stocked in his fridge along with the darker lagers he prefers. But he’s all out of his own beer, so Zero’s shitty IPA it is, and he closes his eyes, resting the cool bottle against his forehead as he tries and fails not to think about sitting here on the couch with Zero last week and pushing the beer away as he pulled Zero against him, smiling into Zero’s mouth, hockey game forgotten on the TV in the background. 

A knock comes at the door, startling Jude from his moping, and he stares at front door for a long moment, considering whether to just stay quiet and pretend he’s not home, as he can’t think of a single person he’d like to see right now.

But he’s proved wrong when curiosity gets the better of him and he gets himself up with a sigh to go over and open the door to find Zero standing across the threshold. 

“Don’t you still have a key?” is the first thing Jude can think to say.

Zero shrugs and runs a hand over the back of his neck, looks down somewhere around Jude’s knees.

“Can I, uh…?” he looks up at Jude then, motions vaguely with one hand towards the apartment behind Jude, the other hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans. 

Zero’s never once asked for permission - he doesn’t ask to be welcomed anywhere, he storms in and demands the welcome, demands the attention, demands others make space for him - so Jude’s unsure of what to say to that. He doesn’t answer except to move from the doorway and allow Zero in.

Zero stops in the middle of the living room when he sees what Jude’s been watching on TV, makes an exaggerated grimace, and grabs the remote to switch the TV off. Jude watches as he heads for the kitchen and pulls out the last of the beer from the fridge, twisting the top off and taking a quick sip as he turns to lean back against the refrigerator door and watch Jude across the room, like _he’s_ the one waiting for Jude to open conversation. 

Jude wants to be stubborn, wants to wait him out, but he’s too tired and a part of him too hopeful for what Zero’s come here to say. 

“I figured you’d be out celebrating or something,” he says, not trying to hide the weariness in his own voice. “At a club or a party or something.”

“I was,” Zero tells him with a bob of his head. “Went out with some of the guys, hit a couple of clubs, lotta music and girls. Ended up at Malina’s place - even _more_ music and girls and drinks…” he trails off and shrugs.

Jude snorts derisively, feeling petty and bitter. “What, and none of ‘em did it for you? I’m surprised you didn’t call up an escort service, order another hooker or two to help you celebrate.”

Zero shrugs again, takes another sip of his beer. “I thought about it,” he says, his tone honest and even, and it hurts like a punch to the gut.

Jude wants to throw him out, and he wants to demand what Zero’s even doing here, and a traitorous part of him still wants to let him stay, let Zero back into his life.

“Here’s the thing,” Zero says before Jude can do any of it. He comes back out to the living room and drops himself down onto Jude’s couch, beer bottle still clutched in his hand like he needs something to hold on to. “I’m sitting there at the club, the first place we went to, and I’m surrounded - women, dudes, Miller and Otis and Martinez, a couple of the Devil Girls and a bunch of people I don’t know, and we’ve got a back room to ourselves, and there’s booze and weed and coke and everything just flowing, and it should be great, should be perfect, right?” 

Jude doesn’t say anything, doesn’t confirm or deny because _no_ , it shouldn’t be perfect, but Zero isn’t his to tell what to do except as an agent to a client. _As long as the drugs stayed behind closed doors and the club employees were appropriately paid off to keep their mouths shut, sure. Fucking perfect._ He swallows hard and glares at Zero, who’s got eyes on the floor.

“And then the next place, same thing, and the party at Malina’s place - just girls all over me and guys lookin’ at me like I’m the fucking basketball god that I am and people surrounding me and listening to me repeat the same dumbshit stories about the game and about Oscar over and over and you know, it’s kinda _making_ me feel like god.”

It’s hard not to picture it - he’s seen it in person enough times, women hanging off of Zero’s body, men hanging off his words, a few looking like they’d _like_ to hang off of his body - but he doesn’t want these images in his head, and he can’t look at Zero anymore, instead turning his eyes to the floor, a pit in his stomach.

“And the thing is,” Zero says again, voice softer now, and hesitant. “I’m surrounded by people, hot girls and hot guys literally hanging off of me, wanting to celebrate with me. But it just felt like something was missing, and like...” he doesn’t finish that thought, And Jude looks up to find him shaking his head and looking down at the beer in his hands, long since forgotten, it seems. “And I kept thinking about it, all these people around me, and I finally realized - I mean, these chicks were fun, don’t get me wrong, but… but it’s _you_ that I really wanted to be celebrating with.”

All of the thoughts suddenly fly from Jude’s head. He stares at Zero staring back at him and can’t think of a thing to say, even as Zero’s jaw clenches agitatedly, desperate for a response. 

“I, uh…” is what comes out a moment later, and Zero smiles at that, but not as he usually does, either confident or flirtatious or teasing or scheming. Jude can’t quite figure out the meaning behind the expression on Zero’s face - on anyone else he might think it nervousness.

With a clearing of his throat, Jude finally finds words enough to say, “I’m not really in the mood for a club or a party or whatever.”

Zero smiles a little wider at that, but still with that same uncharacteristic affectation, and shakes his head. “No clubs, no parties. I did kinda have someplace in mind, though, if you’re interested in taking a trip.”

“A trip?” Jude feels struck dumb still, mind sluggishly trying to catch up with this sudden turn of events. 

“A short one.”

“I…”

“Jude, c’mon, just give me…” Zero trails off, again abandoning whatever he was about to say, but one nod of his head towards the door as he rises from the couch, beer abandoned on the coffee table, and Jude’s following helplessly behind him, unable to stop himself or even really give any thought to what he’s doing before he finds himself with Zero in the back of a towncar being driven out into the city.

The ride doesn’t last too long, which is good, because it’s mostly awkward. The air in the car feels heavy with tension and neither of them speaks the whole way. Jude risks a glance over at Zero, and it really is a night of firsts; Jude’s seen Zero anxious and worried, and Jude’s seen him cocky and arrogant, seen the way the corners of his mouth turn up when he’s pleased, even though his smiles rarely look truly joyful. 

Jude’s never seen him look pensive like this, though, head turned away from Jude to stare out the window beside him, fingertips drumming on his knee, probably feeling Jude’s gaze on him but saying nothing as the car speeds down the dark street. Streetlamps spill light into the car every few seconds in which Jude catches glimpses of the tightness around Zero’s eyes. 

"You hungry?" Zero asks, startling Jude out of his thoughts. He looks at Jude like he knows Jude was staring at him, like he's caught Jude in something.

"What?" is all Jude has time to get out before he realizes that the car's slowing down, pulling into a parking lot.

The parking lot of a diner, Jude realizes as he turns to take a look out the window. Or some other similarly small type of restaurant, by the looks of the neon lights and what looks like a menu pasted to the door.

"It's almost 3:30 in the morning," Jude tells Zero as he turns back to face the other man.

Zero breaks into one of those grins of his, one that has an air of falseness to it now that Jude knows the guy a little better, knows a little more what to look for. 

"I had a craving for some pancakes," Zero says, giving Jude a light smack on the shoulder with the back of his hand before climbing out of the car. It's all oddly reminiscent of that time not too long ago in the back of this same car, sitting at the airport, when Jude...

He shakes his head quickly to banish the memory, unable to handle the lingering embarrassment of that impulse, regardless of his later actions, how quickly he realized that yes, he is gay, and yes, he does want Zero. Did want Zero.

Does want Zero.

He shakes his head again and nods when Zero raps his knuckles on the car window, staring at him through the tinted glass with raised eyebrows.

"You really get lost in your own head sometimes," Zero tells him not unkindly when Jude steps out of the car. It's not teasing, sounds more like a statement of fact, and all Jude can do is shrug and shove his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah," he says simply, nothing else he can do but agree because it's true. Zero grins at him, and it looks more genuine this time, something almost like affection. Jude looks away so he won't get lost in it. 

They leave the car and driver behind with a newspaper folded to the crossword puzzle and a pencil grasped between his fingers, and head inside the brightly-lit _All Nighter_ diner.

Jude turns to head for an empty booth - not hard to find at this time of way early morning - but Zero walks with intent and leads instead to the counter where he's greeted warmly by the waitress on the other side, a forty-something-year-old woman with curly blonde hair and dark circles under her eyes.

"Sweetheart!" she says happily, reaching across the counter to grab Zero by both cheeks and pull him forward. He looks a little startled but grins and lets her plant a kiss on his cheek before he settles back onto a round stool and glances over at Jude, giving him a small head-tilt to beckon him over to the stool beside him.

"We watched the whole thing," the waitress is gushing, smile looking permanently fixed to her face as she talks, eyes only for Zero at the moment. "Had my eyes glued to the screen every second of that last quarter. It was a madhouse in here!" 

Jude glances around; it's hard to picture this place getting all that loud or boisterous considering how empty it now is, only a handful of people sitting scattered at booths around the room. He turns back to find Zero beaming, mouth open in a grin, and Jude can't help the smile that breaks free from him to match.

"Everyone went _nuts_ at that last shot by Roman," the waitress goes on, hand waving through the air dramatically. Jude cringes inwardly, though, almost on instinct, and he can see Zero's mouth tighten even as he continues to smile.

"Um," Jude clears his throat, breaking up the moment. "Hi, um, I'm Jude," he says, reaching out a hand to the woman who tears her eyes away from Zero to glance over at Jude, eyes widening like she didn't realize he was there. 

"I'm Zero's agent," he adds automatically, almost a reflex at this point even though the status of just who he is to Zero, who they are to each other - friends, lovers, something more, something less, agent and athlete, nothing at all - is all up in the air now. From the corner of his eye he can see Zero watching him but can't tell what he might be thinking. 

"Oh hi there!" she says brightly, making Jude smile by reflex. "I'm Madeline. Are you the one we have to thank for bringing him here to us then?"

"Yup, he's the man," Zero replies before Jude can open his mouth, grinning that poster-boy grin and slapping Jude on the back. 

"I'm the man," Jude echoes, and Madeline raises a hand to high-five him across the counter. 

"You and me," Madeline says, finger pointing back and forth between herself and Jude. "We gotta make sure we keep him happy. Can't let this one get away from us!"

Jude forces a laugh out and doesn't look over at Zero. 

Madeline leans one elbow on the counter and asks Zero, "So what'll be, hon?"

"Oh, darlin," Zero says in a drawl that Jude’s grown used to. "I think you know what I want." 

Jude turns sideways on his stool to watch Madeline wink at Zero. "You got it," she says.

"And, uh, maybe a little somethin' extra on top?" Zero says, still with that drawl, eyes dark and enticing. "For the man of the hour?" 

"Sugar, like you even have to ask," she drawls right back. This seems like an old routine for them. "And how 'bout you, sweetheart?" she asks, turning to Jude, notepad and pencil in hand. 

"Waffles," Jude blurts out before he can really think about it. "Do you have waffles?" 

"Of course!" Madeline replies happily and spins on her heels, pencil waving in the air. "Pancakes and waffles it is, fellas." She heads back through a door that appears to lead to a kitchen.

Jude turns to look at Zero and Zero raises his eyebrows at him.

"Waffles?" Zero asks, and Jude shrugs, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth almost against his will. 

"Pancakes?"

Zero nods, a slow up and down, and he's smiling, looks almost happy as he mimics Jude’s shrugs and says, "I've come here every gameday morning since I came to L.A., always ordered a stack of blueberry pancakes. They did me well this season."

"Every day you had a game?" Jude asks, surprised.

"Every home game, yeah." 

"Huh." Jude gives him a considering look and Zero frowns in response. Jude shrugs. "I never knew you were superstitious."

"It's not superstition," Zero tells him with a pointed finger. "It's routine."

"It's superstitious if you think their blueberry pancakes bring you good luck or in any other way affect the outcome of your game," Jude tells him, grinning at Zero's rolled eyes. "How'd you find this place, anyway?"

"It's near my apartment," Zero tells him matter-of-factly, which prompts Jude to swivel on his stool and glance out to the darkened street through one of the diner's windows. He's never actually been to Zero's apartment, but he helped find Zero a broker and went through apartment listings with him when he first got to L.A. and was living out of a hotel room, so he knows Zero's address and his neighborhood - he'd even figured he probably knew Zero's neighborhood better than Zero did, though Jude could never afford to live around here. He hadn't even noticed as they were driving that this is where they'd ended up. Or that Zero actually knew anything about where he lived.

Madeline reappears, carrying two empty coffee cups, and sets one down in front of each of them.

"Coffee?" she asks with her back to them, reaching for a pot on a burner nearby.

"Yes, sure, for me," Jude says. He nods at Zero beside him as she turns back to them. "He doesn't - "

"Oh, I know, hun," she cuts him off with a grin as she pours his cup. "He doesn't drink coffee. I'll have your tea up in just a sec," she tells Zero, touching his arm lightly, and Zero smiles back in response.

Jude waits until his coffee is poured, the water light and Madeline is out from behind the counter, refilling coffee cups for the handful of other patrons around the room, before he says to Zero with a nod, "You're flirting with her."

He's not really sure what he means by it; it's true, and Jude's chuckling at bit as he says it, but he's not sure if he says to laugh it off or to be mean or what, exactly. 

Zero seems to take it as a dig, though, and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. "Jude, I flirt with _everyone_. It's just how I am." The _get over it already_ goes unsaid but Jude can hear it in his voice anyway.

A thought strikes him then, sudden and aching, making his stomach twist. He watches Zero tap his fingers against the counter restlessly, dart his eyes up at the TV screen above the counter in time to catch a highlight of himself from earlier in the evening.

"Is that what it was with me?" Jude asks finally, unable to keep the words in. Zero looks up at him, surprise etched across his face, and Jude feels a sense of satisfaction to have caught him off guard. "Before we - you were always... I don't know. Giving me these looks, the way you'd talk to me sometimes. Was it just, y'know. You being you?" 

It hurts a little to ask it, but Jude's done with dancing around their relationship, whatever it may be; he made that clear to Zero earlier tonight and his stance remains the same now as it did then - it's got to be all or nothing, and he needs to know where he stands with Zero, needs to know if this whole thing started because Jude mistook Zero's attention and interest as something unique and just for him.

Zero turns to look at him, wearing that same expression he had on earlier, in the locker room, something wounded in his eyes, but he's saved from answering by Madeline's return with his tea. 

She chats with him about the game for a few minutes and Jude lets them talk, lets his own question go and sips his coffee, letting himself enjoy the moment as he watches Zero smile and put on a show of being humble. He's seen Zero's faux-modesty trotted out at press conferences, in interviews, but there's something different about it now, in this atmosphere, with someone that he actually seems to be enjoying talking to.

Their food arrives, both topped with mounds of whipped cream, Zero's with an extra dousing of blueberry sauce and what look like fresh strawberries as well, and Jude has to wonder at what kind of diner has fresh fruit at this time of night that actually appears to actually be edible, but he says nothing and tries not to be too taken by Zero's wide, happy grin. Or too jealous at the wink Madeline gives him in response. 

Almost immediately after Madeline delivers their food, a man in a chef’s coat comes out through the kitchen door, his own face split open in a grin, and reaches across the counter to shake Zero's shoulder. 

"Championship, man!" the chef, a small man with pale skin and wide eyes, bandana wrapped around his head and grease stains littering his white coat, exclaims happily, holding up both hands so Zero can double-high-five him. 

Zero goes with it, indulging him maybe - maybe indulging himself - and goes through another round of the same questions and chatter that he'd just had with Madeline. 

"That layup, man, amazing!"

"Yup, I got open at the right spot, Roman found the ball right to me."

"I almost lost it when Wall went down. He gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, that was tough, real tough. No word on him last I heard, but I'm sure he's hangin' in there." 

“Crazy about your owner, man, huh?”

Jude’s fingers clench around his fork and he stares down at his waffles hard. He can feel Zero’s eyes dart over to him without even looking, and there’s a brief pause before Zero replies.

“Yeah. Yeah, real surprising.”

“Were you there when he got busted?”

“Yeah,” Zero says again, vaguely. Jude’s chest constricts and he tries to keep his breathing normal, his expression normal. Tries to chase the image of Oscar’s face as he was hauled off from his mind. 

"And your shoulder feelin' alright?" the chef asks, switching gears quickly enough that Jude has to release a rush breath of air.

"Yeah, yeah, it's good - got a whole offseason to rest everything up anyway," Zero replies, the smile back in his voice.

When both the chef - Jerry, Zero calls him - and Madeline move away to busy themselves with other things, Zero stares down at his pancakes with a quirk to his mouth that might be the remnants of a smile and Jude stares at him. Zero looks up at him sideways.

"What?" 

"Nothing," Jude replies automatically, then shakes his head slightly and looks down at his waffles. He looks back up at Zero and says, feeling a surge of unexpected warmth, "They know you here." 

Zero looks away, like he's embarrassed or maybe bashful, has that same _Don't make a thing out of it_ expression in his eyes that he'd had that night back at Jude's apartment, and says, gesturing with his hands at the food in front of them and then the diner and everything around them, "You wanted public, this is public. You wanted real..."

This is real. 

He ventures a look at Jude then, and Jude can't tell if he looks hopeful, but it's what Jude feels all of a sudden - wildly, desperately hopeful. Zero's right - a place important to him, in however small a way, someplace he goes almost every day, someplace where people know him, even if it's a vague version of him, showing Jude a normal, routine part of his life - this is something real.

Jude lets himself smile, and it's reflected back to him in the grin that takes Zero over. They sit quietly for a moment, just staring at one another, as Jude realizes that the flirting doesn't even really matter; _this_ he knows, he's certain, is just for him.

"Yeah," Jude says after a while, and then raises his fork to clink against Zero's. "Cheers. To, uh - to victory."

Zero snorts a laugh and shakes his head , and Jude lets him roll his eyes , lets him tease. 

Later, after they've finished their food and chatted aimlessly about the Dodgers and about Zero's car and about moments from the game - "That layup really was perfect, you know," Jude tells him. "Beautiful." Zero shrugs in response but grins like he's just been asked to do an exclusive for SportsCenter - and have carefully sidestepped any mention of Oscar or what the future of the team may be with Lionel running the show, Jude tries to pay the bill and Zero tries to argue that he was the one taking Jude out, and in the end Madeline won't let either of them pay, calling the whole thing on the house. 

They sit closer together in the car on the way back to Jude's apartment, Zero's knee resting against Jude's, their elbows jostling at every pothole - still not much conversation between them, but this time at least the silence is comfortable, like they've both silently agreed that okay, this is something, even if they haven't agreed on what.

It's weird when they get back to Jude's place - but then, the whole night's been weird, starting right from the end of the game. Zero follows him inside but the driver doesn't leave with the car, so it feels like being dropped off after a date or something. Jude's not really sure what to do next, or what to say, exactly, when Zero lingers by the door after closing it behind them. 

"Thanks," he settles on finally, as he leans back against the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. "For taking me out there. That was..." there are a lot of things he could say here, but he just goes with "...a great diner.”

Zero smirks. “Good waffles?”

“The best.” Jude’s staring at Zero, his eyes dropping down a fraction to Zero’s mouth, and he can’t actually remember what the waffles tasted like. 

Zero’s standing too far away - Jude’s hands itch to grab him, to pull him closer, to pull himself closer - but neither one moves to close the gap between them. He feels like it’s on him to say something, to put a name to what’s happening here - he laid things out for Zero and Zero picked it up, offered this piece of himself, and now the ball’s back in Jude’s court, and he has no idea what to do with it. 

“Look, I, um,” he starts, raising a hand to scratch anxiously at the back of his neck. “This was a good night…” he stops and rethinks his words. “...All things considered.”

“Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Zero says with a smile that’s all false casualness. 

“No, no - not really, I.” He sighs and looks down at the floor, frustrated, his normal way with words suddenly escaping him. “I want you,” he says, looking back up at Zero and dropping the hand from the back of his neck, standing up a little straighter.

Zero’s grin broadens, spreads across his face, and Jude can’t read him suddenly. “Doesn’t everyone?” he says, and it makes Jude laugh even though he really should roll his eyes at the casual cockiness. 

“Maybe,” Jude replies honestly, still smiling. Then, more seriously, “I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

Zero nods and looks away, stares across the room and folds his arms across his chest. “So that means what?”

“I want,” Jude says with a unconscious laugh. “I want to tell you to stay. I want to ask you to hang out, watch ESPN or something - ”

“Like hell I’m watching those highlights,” Zero grunts. “Probably fucking Derek and Terrence all over ‘em, even though Wall fucked his knee all up…”

“Or _something_ ,” Jude repeats. “I want you to stick around tonight and I want to talk more about the game or whatever else. But I know if you did, we’d - we’d just end up in bed.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Zero turns back to look at him, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s got a couple of lines, small ones, in the corners of his eyes that come out more in moments like this when he’s hiding a smile but not doing it very hard, and Jude’s hit with a memory of Zero looking up at him like this from his knees right before he leaned in to lick up the underside of Jude’s cock.

His mouth goes dry at the image and he has to take a deep breath before he continues.

“I just don’t want that to be it, and - and I don’t want to fuck this up and for us to go right back to the way things were.”

He’s not sure if Zero gets what he’s trying to say, but Zero nods anyway, unfolds his arms to shove his hands into his pockets, defensive like Jude’s never really seen him other than maybe earlier tonight in the locker room. 

“Yeah,” Zero says tightly after a moment. “Okay. So then… what? You gonna call me or something and we go on a date or whatever?” he asks, like he has no idea how dating normally works, which Jude would bet is probably true.

He shrugs in response. “Yeah, something like that. We could do something tomorrow, lunch or dinner or something.” 

That draws a quiet laugh from Zero and a shake of his head, which throws Jude for a moment - everything in this conversation feels like a minefield and maybe he’s just set one off - but Zero puts his hands on his hips, an unconscious mimic of a pose from one of his posters, and juts his chin out a little as he says, “No one’s ever turned me down before.”

Leaving aside the fact that that’s not true and they both know it, Jude puts his hands up, eyebrows raising placatingly. “Not turning you down. I’m just slowing things down. Just a little.”

The smile on Zero’s face grows wider and he takes a few slow steps towards Jude. “With me, that’s pretty much the same thing,” he says, but there’s no anger to the words, and he stops in front of Jude, taking the hem of Jude’s t-shirt in both hands. 

There’s a wild, anxious moment in which Jude curls his fingers against Zero’s elbows and then freezes as a thought occurs to him, and he pushes Zero back gently. 

“You’re not - you’re not gonna go home and call up a hooker or something, are you?” He hates having to ask, especially when he sees Zero’s smile falter, but he has to be clear on where they stand. 

“You really think I’d do that?” Zero asks, eyebrows climbing as he cocks his head back. “Now?”

“You said you thought about it a few hours ago,” Jude shrugs. Zero starts to pull back further and despite the question he’s just asked, Jude digs his fingers into Zero’s arms to keep him in place. They look at each other for a moment. 

“That was before,” Zero replies simply, and then leans in before Jude has a chance to think of a response and kisses him. It’s slow, more languid than they’ve ever really kissed before, and Jude finds himself sighing, sinking into it, opening his mouth to let Zero run his tongue against Jude’s lower lip.

It takes a moment for Jude’s eyes to open after Zero pulls away, and when he does he finds Zero’s grinning wolfishly at him. Always so smug, the jerk. Jude laughs and shoves him away lightly. 

“Okay,” Zero says, nodding. “Well, uh. Guess I’ll get going then. Tomorrow?” he asks, eyebrows raised again, as if Jude actually might not call him.

“Right. Yeah,” Jude says dumbly. “Tomorrow.” 

And he lets Zero pull away, and it’s almost painful to stop touching him, to watch him turn and head towards the front door. This is it, this is what he wants - days ago he was terrified of letting himself feel things for Zero that wouldn’t be returned, and give hours ago he was resolved to let Zero go and now… now Zero’s given him something, and he might actually be able to let himself go, let himself fall, and it’s a shock to realize that for once, for _once_ , he might actually get something he wants. 

His chest aches wonderfully, in this way he can’t ever really remember feeling before, and he breaks into a smile that he can’t hold back.

Fuck it. 

He dashes across the room to slide in between Zero and the door just before Zero can get a hand on the doorknob. Zero takes a step back, startled.

“Forget it,” Jude tells him, grinning wildly, _feeling_ wild. “The, uh - everything I just said. About waiting, I mean, forget it. Stay.”

Zero grins wide and open and genuine for just a moment before the expression turns darkly smug, and Jude rolls his eyes, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him in to kiss him before he can say something idiotic.

“You’re not just gonna change your mind again in a couple minutes, are you?” Zero asks as he pulls back a fraction, just enough so that he can speak, and his breath ghosts over Jude’s eyes with every word.

Jude kisses him again, then presses his mouth against Zero’s chin and bites gently at his jaw. “Definitely not,” he says, and grabs a handful of Zero’s ass, shoves their groins together.

Zero presses his face against Jude’s neck, and Jude can feel his smile.

“Just one minute though,” Zero says as he pushes back a little and gets his phone out of his back pocket. Jude opens his mouth to ask what the hell, but before he can get a word out Zero’s speaking into the phone.

“Hey, man, you can take off.” He stares at Jude, his eyes dark and expression a familiar mixture of cocky and hungry, teeth bared in a sharp grin. Jude’s hands push up under Zero’s shirt almost of their own volition, and he presses a kiss to Zero’s jaw, careful to be quiet enough so he won’t be heard by the driver on the other end of the phone line. “I’m gonna crash here. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

Zero doesn’t seem to wait for a goodbye, just ends the call and then tosses the phone off to the side and grabs Jude’s face with both hands to pull him in for another kiss. The phone clatters to the floor somewhere in the living room and Jude tears his mouth away, breathing heavily.

“I think you might’ve broken your phone.”

“I’ll buy a new one,” Zero says with all of the concern of a very rich man with little else to spend his money on, and he pulls Jude’s t-shirt over his head. 

Jude’s eyes fall closed as Zero’s hands run over his body, palms sliding down his sides, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, skin against skin, and it feels amazing and not enough. Jude kisses the side of Zero’s neck, runs his tongue up behind Zero’s ear, and yanks at the shirt hiding Zero’s chest from him. The snap buttons pull apart at Jude’s insistence and Zero pulls his hands away from Jude’s back to shrug the shirt from his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. 

Their pants follow quickly, both of them before Jude even realizes that Zero’s dropping to his knees, pressing his mouth against Jude’s growing erection through his boxers. Jude lets out a gasp and stares down at Zero looking back up at him and he runs a hand through Zero’s hair, tugging at the strands roughened by gel, and his chest is so full for a moment.

Zero gets back to his feet, kisses Jude deep, tongue pressing in Jude’s mouth with purpose as Jude reaches down to dip beneath the waistband of Zero’s boxer-briefs, fingers brushing against the head of Zero’s cock. Jude smiles at the gasp Zero breathes into his mouth.

“Feels like forever since you touched me,” Zero whispers, lips brushing against Jude’s as he speaks. 

Jude laughs lightly. “It’s been like twenty hours.” 

“Feels like longer. I thought…” he shakes his head and lowers his chin, rests his forehead against Jude’s shoulder as Jude takes his dick in hand and squeezes gently. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to touch you again.” 

It’s a quiet enough confession that Jude almost doesn’t hear. And the truth is, Jude had felt the same, and all of this - Gideon, their venture out together, Zero actually telling him something of his desires rather than brushing things off as no big thing or just having some fun - feels a bit like starting brand new, even though he knows just how to twist his fingers to make Zero squirm.

“I don’t know what to call you now,” Jude tells him, Zero or Gideon. The man shakes his head against Jude’s shoulder and huffs a small laugh, then pulls back a bit. 

“Doesn’t matter. Call me whatever. Just keep touching me.” He kisses Jude and Jude does as he’s told, jacking Zero off slowly and pressing his free hand into Zero’s neck to keep him in place. 

In the morning Zero will probably go right to being _Zero_ , mostly leaving Gideon behind, leaving these quiet confessions behind, but this is a start, and Jude can be patient, hold onto these moments and be patient for more. 

He takes his hand from Zero’s underwear and pushes him back, still kissing, still brushing their tongues together, until Zero hits the couch and has to sit down before they both topple over. He looks up at Jude with a dark smile on his face, eyes heavy-lidded, and Jude sinks down to his knees, hands tugging at Zero’s underwear to get them down around his knees.

He runs his tongue up along the side of Zero’s cock and Zero sighs, head falling to rest against the back of the couch. He moans when Jude takes him into his mouth and slides his fingers into Jude’s hair, his free hand stroking aimlessly over Jude’s neck, his shoulder, his jaw. Fingers come to rest on his cheek as Jude takes Zero’s cock down, and he gets a strange thrill from the idea of Zero feeling how he’s filling Jude’s mouth. 

Jude makes it wet, makes it fast, and gets harder himself from hearing the groans that fall from Zero’s lips. He grips a hand around Zero’s dick where his mouth can’t reach, tries to jack in time with his tongue, then pulls off and ducks down to press his mouth against Zero’s balls, tongueing one and then the other as Zero’s hips jump and stutter against him. 

“You can come on me,” Jude tells Zero before he goes back down on him, enjoying the weight of Zero’s cock on his tongue and wondering briefly when he got so talkative during sex - sex used to be somewhat clinical for him, a race to get off, but maybe it’s the guy thing, the gay thing, the fact that in his racing just to get off he never really gave himself a chance to think about whether he actually _wanted_ to get off with the girls he hooked up with or dated. Maybe it’s just Zero. That thought is a little too much for the moment, though, so he sucks hard and brushes his tongue over the head of Zero’s cock as he pulls up.

Zero groans “fuck yeah,” in response and tightens the hand in Jude’s hair to a nearly painful degree as Jude moves up and back down over him for a few moments until he’s actually tugging at Jude’s hair and Jude pulls off him, watching as Zero’s abs tighten and his hips thrust up a little and then he’s coming against Jude with a shout, against his neck and his chin, and Jude grins at him.

It takes a few moments for Zero’s chest to stop heaving, during which Jude kisses along his collarbone and gets a hand down his own boxers to brush against his cock, before Zero gets it together enough to pull Jude up to straddle him on the couch and get Jude’s boxers down. He shoves Jude’s hand away, wrapping his own fingers around Jude’s cock. He jacks Jude off quickly, raising up from the couch to press his mouth against Jude’s chest as he does it, kissing the flushed skin there and then mouthing at one of Jude’s nipples, and all the while Jude moans and babbles stupid shit like “fuck, that feels good,” and “your hands are amazing,” and “don’t stop, this is so good.”

Zero doesn’t stop, of course; he keeps up the pace, squeezing in just the right spot to make Jude’s breath stutter, and then he’s coming before he quite realizes, the buildup coming fast and tearing a yelping “Fuck!” from his throat before he lets himself fall forward to rest against Zero, leaning until he’s half on the couch and breathing heavily against Zero’s neck. 

A minute or two goes by in which all Jude can hear is the sound of his own heart beating and all he can see is Zero’s skin and then he realizes that Zero’s got one arm around Jude’s hip and the other around Jude’s shoulders - holding onto him. He’s never done that before and Jude’s almost afraid to move.

He does risk brushing his thumb back and forth over Zero’s bicep, and Zero responds by running a hand down Jude’s back and then back up again. 

“I don't really know how to do this,” Zero says quietly, another confession. Jude doesn’t have to ask what he means, but Zero clarifies anyway. “A relationship. I don't really have a lot of experience with them.” 

“It’s okay,” Jude tells him without looking up, still afraid to break the moment and scare him off. “We can take it slow. I just needed to know where we stand. I need to know that this is - that there's something here. That we both want the same thing. That we both _feel_ the same thing. I couldn't keep on the way we were if you didn’t feel the same way I do.”

And the reality is that he still doesn’t quite know that Zero feels the same way he does, but this is a good start.

“To be honest,” Jude goes on, brushing his hand over Zero’s elbow and enjoying the freedom to do so. “I didn't really think you'd come. At least not so soon.”

“C’mon, Jude, you know I always come,” Zero replies in a cocky rumble, deftly dodging a real response and Jude snorts a laugh but doesn’t look up, lets him dodge it if he wants to.

But then, a few minutes later, still rubbing Jude’s back, Zero says softly, “You make me feel important.” 

And Jude thinks he gets it. Zero _is_ important - Oscar paid $30 million for him, he helped carry this team to a championship, everyone wants a piece of him. But all of it - the team and the money and the women (and occasional men) who throw themselves at him, it’s not _quite_ real. They want _Zero_ , the superstar, the guy who’s built a whole persona around being desirable and godlike. But he hasn’t had many people in his life who have really wanted _him._ And for Jude, after a lifetime of trying to mold himself to be what his father might want in a son, even at the expense of himself, he can can relate.

Zero’s earlier words echo in Jude’s head, _It’s you that I really wanted to be celebrating with,_ and he pushes himself up so that he can look Zero in the eye and then lean in to kiss him slowly.

“You are,” he says against Zero’s lips. _Not just for your game,_ he thinks. _Not just for your money. You’re important to_ me. He doesn’t say any of it, but he’s pretty sure Zero gets it anyway.

They stay on the couch together, no more conversation, mostly dozing, until the sun comes up.


End file.
